


Sister Jo and the Gay Angel

by DestielTheShipOfDreams



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Wings, Angels are Dicks, Azazel (Supernatural)'s Special Children, Canon-Typical Violence, Cas gets rescued, Conflicted Castiel, Demons, First Kiss, Jealous Dean, Jo is a nun, M/M, Oblivious Sam Winchester, Season/Series 13, pure nonsense tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-03-04 19:01:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13371126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DestielTheShipOfDreams/pseuds/DestielTheShipOfDreams
Summary: When Sam and Dean rescue a nun from a demon, they aren't expecting her to be the key to getting Cas back. They aren't expecting her to have mysterious powers. And neither Cas nor Dean are expecting her to finally bring them together.Written before we knew anything about Danneel's character except a name.Yes, I've reached a new low with titles. Deal with it.





	Sister Jo and the Gay Angel

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is clearly nothing close to what will happen on screen, for many reasons, and is also not my greatest piece of writing... let me explain, if it interests you. If not, just skip the rest of the A/N and read the fic.  
> So for a short while between hearing the name 'Sister Jo' and reading anything more about Mrs Harris-Ackles's character, I was sure that she'd be a nun. I was subsequently very interested in the idea of her being awestruck by Cas and forming an immediate bond with him. I was then super amused by the idea of Dean misreading that friendship and being jealous, both because it's funny in general and because of the hilarity of Jensen having to play that dynamic. I decided to start writing a little fic based around this dynamic and at the same time, I got interested in the theory/idea that Cas's reluctance to act on his feelings for Dean is actually rooted in shame. It makes a lot of sense; we know that the angels consider angel/human relationships unnatural and gross, and we know that Cas has shared that view in the past. The only time we really ever saw Cas relax around Dean and dare to flirt with him... was when he was human. If you want to read more into this, I direct you to this ask SENT BY ME in response to a great little piece of meta by the wonderful Lollydragon on tumblr: https:// lollydrag0n.tumblr.com /post/167183211608/hey-regarding-your-awesome-meta-about-cass :)  
> Anyway, I wanted to explore that a bit and also vent my misguided little plot bunny about Sister Jo. As it turns out we now know she's not a nun, and I doubt she would have been the key to canon destiel in any case. I just think it's odd that they named her Jo??? I mean, we already have one? I assume they re-used the name on purpose. We'll see I guess!

“You lead, I’ll follow behind,” Sam whispers almost inaudibly from beside Dean. The older man sees his brother’s head jerk in the direction of the crypt in the corner of the graveyard, a looming mass of shadow in the scant moonlight.

 

Dean creeps towards the small building, hearing the murmur of voices within. He wonders whether it would have been wiser to gank this demon when they had the chance earlier. Instead they tried to be clever, letting him get away and hopefully lead them to Asmodeus or a way into Hell. Letting a demon run loose hasn’t been sitting well with Dean since they made that decision. And this graveyard is creepy, even by graveyard standards. None of it feels great.

 

Too late now.

 

Just as Dean almost gets close enough to reach out and crack the door open, he hears a female voice cry out from within.

 

“No- no! Please-”

 

Dean crashes through the door without another pause, just in time to throw himself at the demon who’s poised to stab a bound woman cowering against the wall. He tackles the surprised man to the floor, narrowly avoiding the blade in his hand. Dean rolls off of the demon on impact and he raises an arm defensively as the creature recovers quickly and looms over him, still holding the knife-

 

Sam drags the demon off of Dean and the older Winchester staggers to his feet as his brother struggles briefly with the creature. Within seconds, though, Ruby’s knife is plunged deep into the demon’s heart. With one last snarl, he goes limp in Sam’s hold.

 

“Oh,” gasps the woman from behind Dean. He turns and grabs her shoulder, making vague soothing sounds as she sags forward, hyperventilating, face obscured by her long auburn hair.

 

“Hey, it’s OK, you’re safe now, we got you…” Dean reassures almost on autopilot, used to panicked victims. He pats her back and tugs her gently away from the wall, focusing on her hands tied at the small of her back. Slicing through the rope, he squeezes her wrists lightly as he brings them around to her front. She swallows, obviously regaining control of herself as she straightens up and shakes her hair back, meeting his eyes.

 

Dean pauses, very pleasantly surprised. Well, damn if they didn’t just rescue one of the prettiest women Dean’s seen in a long time; and thankfully, the demon had a few candles lit so Dean actually can see. He blinks down at the stranger, a small grin stealing onto his face, his gaze moving from her eyes down to her parted lips.

 

“Well, hi,” he murmurs. She stares wide-eyed back up at him, still breathing a little rapidly.

 

“Hi,” she breathes back, looking dazed. Dean cocks his head, letting his interest show in his eyes, but a moment later the woman’s expression turns to alarm.

 

“Damn it!” she hisses, before wincing and glancing inexplicably up at the ceiling. “I- I mean, oh no! I- where is it-”

 

Wrenching her hands out of Dean’s, she sidesteps the confused man without another glance and looks wildly around the small floor space, barely even paying attention to a bemused Sam.

 

“Ah!” squeaks the beautiful stranger, face lighting up as she spots a puddle of white material on the floor nearby. Swooping down, she kneels and leans over, gathering up her hair and tugging the starched garment over her head.

 

Dean looks at Sam, utterly perplexed. The younger man shrugs helplessly.

 

“OK, right,” the woman says a moment later, scrambling to her feet, hair now scraped back and covered by a rumpled but unmistakeable white headpiece. She turns to face them and Dean feels his jaw drop a little.

 

A nun. Of course this sexy-ass chick he’s just saved from a demon has to be a goddamn nun.

 

“Sorry, gentlemen, I just- I’m supposed to wear it in the presence of anyone outside the convent,” she says, flustered, straightening her habit. “Although I’m sure the Lord will understand that circumstances were… exceptional.”

 

Clearing her throat and casting a fearful glance at the dead demon sprawled on the floor, she meets Dean’s eyes once more.

 

“Thank you so much for saving me,” she says fervently. She looks at Sam, too, who shakes his head and mumbles something about it being no problem. Dean is still open-mouthed, although he fixes this quickly when hot nun chick steps towards him and extends a shaky hand, chin up.

 

“I’m Sister Jo Brigham,” she says courteously. “And you are...?”

 

Dean sighs resignedly and takes her hand, giving it a firm shake. “Dean Winchester. This here’s my brother, Sam.”

 

Jo nods quickly, glancing at Sam. “Well, thank you again. I’m very grateful to you. I, uh… assume it wasn’t a case of you just happening to be nearby? Do you know this creature?”

 

Dean raises his eyebrows. A smart one. Normally the people they save take a while to connect the dots and realise that the brothers are part of the occult world and not just passers by. This Jo already looks calm and thoughtful, taking stock of the situation and eyeing the two men warily.

 

“We know what he is,” Sam replies after a beat. “We weren’t acquainted with him, though, no.”

 

“We know his boss,” Dean chimes in, watching Jo closely. “Dude by the name of Asmodeus. We got a bone to pick with him. Did the demon mention an Asmodeus to you at all?”

 

Jo goes pale. “So he was a demon, then.”

 

Dean nods matter-of-factly. “Afraid so, ma’am. So. Asmodeus?”

 

Jo visibly gathers herself. “Yes. Not… directly to me. I overheard him communicating with this Asmodeus. He... he spoke into a bowl of… of blood, and a voice spoke back. The things they discussed made very little sense to me, but it seemed to be connected to some kind of devil worship. I don’t know, they spoke of Hell and demons, of angels as prisoners-”

 

“What?” Dean says sharply, excitedly, stepping forward. “What did he say about angel prisoners?”

 

Jo shakes her head agitatedly, hugging her arms around her middle. “That was when he became aware of my eavesdropping. He pulled me into the crypt, tied me up.”

 

Sam frowns. “That must have been a little while ago, we didn’t see it happen. Why wouldn’t he have killed you straight away?”

 

Jo lowers her eyes. “I- I think he saw something about me that made him believe me to be useful somehow. He was saying that he would present me to this Asmodeus as some sort of gift. I was struggling and he was threatening me... I started praying out loud, some old Latin stuff, I don’t know why. He didn’t like it, but I didn’t stop. He must have decided to kill me after all. That’s when you came in.”

 

Dean and Sam exchange raised eyebrows, both similarly intrigued.

 

“OK, Sister Jo Brigham,” Dean says eventually. “We have a safe place we can take you, only a few hours from here.”

 

Jo’s eyes harden. “I would much rather return to the convent-”

 

“You’re coming with us,” Sam cuts across her firmly, but not unkindly. She glares at him and he shrugs apologetically. “Sorry, but we have a lot of questions we need to ask you and we can’t do it here. We won’t hurt you and we will let you go soon, I swear.”

 

Jo sighs and closes her eyes. “I suppose I don’t get much of a choice.”

 

“Nope,” Dean says cheerfully, stowing his knife away and striding over to the dead demon. He leans down and hooks his hands under the corpse’s arms, hoisting it up with a grunt. He looks at Sam and jerks his head at Jo, who’s frowning at the floor. “You keep an eye on her, I’ll burn the body in the woods.”

 

*

 

Of course, by the time they learn enough from Jo to piece together the location of Cas’s cell, they’re too eager to save their friend to return Jo to her convent. So they apologise once more and put her in Sam’s room since it has a small en suite, locking her securely in there with some food and water… and Sam’s Kindle, complete with charger. They try not to feel too bad about it, reasoning both with her and each other that it’s a temporary precaution to cover their bases. Nothing personal. She’ll be free to go once they return, and they’ve called Jody with instructions to drive over and free the poor nun if the boys don’t return within twenty four hours.

 

They almost forget, in the joy and relief of getting Cas back once more, to contact Jody and assure her that a nun rescue won’t be necessary. It’s just past sunset when they roll up back at the bunker, tired but buoyant, around twelve hours after they left. The three of them troop down the hallway to Sam’s room, Dean shooting Cas an irrepressible smile every few seconds. Cas doesn’t quite smile back, but his gaze is warm and steady.

 

Sam unlocks the door and opens it slowly, poking his head in. “Sister?”

 

“Praise be to God,” comes the hoarse reply, followed by a hasty rustling of material. Sam steps into the room and Dean follows to see Jo getting heavily to her feet from the bed, dark circles under her anxious eyes doing nothing to detract from her beauty. Dean barely registers that, though. He’s feeling a boyish excitement, an offshoot of the giddy relief and euphoria he’s coasting after getting Cas back again.

 

“How’re you doing in here?” he asks, but continues before Jo can reply. “Hey, there’s someone here you probably wanna meet. Similar line of work, you might say.”

 

Dean is snickering as he steps aside and lets Cas walk through the door, but he isn’t actually expecting an immediate reaction. All three men jump as Jo lets out a yelp of alarm and backs up against the wall, terrified eyes on Cas.

 

“You’re one of them,” she hisses. Cas cocks his head at her, frowning, before stepping towards her. She flinches and crosses herself, breathing a quick prayer. Cas halts, still staring at the nun. Dean blinks in puzzlement before he notes the way Jo’s eyes are not fixed on Cas’s face, but are rather darting back and forth in the air just behind and above him.

 

“What the…” Sam murmurs. Dean gulps, understanding beginning to dawn on him.

 

“You can see my wings?” Cas asks in halting disbelief. Jo glares at him.

 

“Stay away from me, demon,” she growls. Cas raises his eyebrows.

 

“Wait, wait, whoa,” Dean says, stepping forward with his hands raised placatingly. “Hold up a minute. Sister Jo, you can see Cas’s wings? Like, for real? Not just shadows?”

 

She nods, brow furrowed, not taking her suspicious eyes off of the angel. “I’ve always been able to see the monsters in the world for what they truly are, just as I have always been able to stop them seeing me once their eyes aren’t actually on me. I never knew for sure, until I spoke to you, that it was demons I was seeing. Creatures of Hell. I always suspected, though.”

 

She seems to realise something and she looks accusingly at Sam. “You said that you fight these creatures, that you’re enemies of the Devil. But you have one in your home, as a friend-”

 

“Cas is an angel,” Dean says loudly, emphatically. “Not a demon. You’re getting mixed up.”

 

Jo stares at Dean for a moment before choking out an incredulous laugh.

 

“An angel?” she repeats shrilly. “You can’t seriously expect me to believe that. An angel? No. Angels are beings of light, of God himself, protectors and saviours.”

 

“Yeah, and Cas is all of that,” snaps Dean defensively. Cas shoots him a fond look before focusing again on Jo.

 

“You have always been able to see the wings of my kind?” he asks softly. She tightens her jaw and gives him a poisonous look, still pressed against the wall.

 

“Only since adulthood,” she answers after a moment. “But I realised quickly that your beauty is a lie. Your kind are savage monsters, no better than the more obvious demons I see more frequently.”

 

Cas looks pained. “Ah. I understand why you’ve formed an… unpleasant view of angels. But I swear to you, that is what we are. Warriors of God. Things have… not been going well in Heaven. I’m sorry.”

 

Cas’s voice and eyes are heavy with sincerity and heartache. Jo hesitates, looking unsure.

 

“Wait,” Sam pipes up, looking confused. “You can see demon faces too? Like, their real faces?”

 

Jo tears her eyes away from Cas to nod at the younger man. “Yes. For years now I’ve been able to see that some people have a devil living inside them, possessing them. The faces of these people are twisted horribly. The demon you saved me from was like that.”

 

“Yeah, because he actually was a demon,” Dean agrees. “But Cas here is not. He’s telling the truth. What-”

 

Here Dean cuts himself off, shooting Cas a nervous glance. Cas turns to look at him but Dean ploughs ahead before the angel can meet his eyes, speaking quickly to Jo. “What do you see when you look at him?”

 

Cas flushes a little, staring at Dean, but the man seems determined not to look at him. He keeps his eyes on Jo, expression expectant and intensely curious. She frowns at him and then looks at Cas once more, moving her gaze slowly over him.

 

“Well, he mostly looks human,” she says haltingly. “But he… glows. I don’t know how else to say it. It’s beautiful. Around his head the light is brighter, like a… well, like a halo. And of course, the wings. They’re enormous. They’re beautiful too, but damaged, all tattered and twisted-”

 

“That’s enough,” Cas says sharply, roughly. He’s frowning heavily, no longer looking at anyone in the room, shoulders hunched defensively. Dean’s mouth is open, fascination clear on his face, but he gathers himself after a moment and looks sheepishly at the embarrassed angel.

 

“OK,” he says. He clears his throat and fixes Jo with a firm look. “What you’re seeing is the real deal, alright? Not a demon. You think angels are evil because of what you’ve seen ‘em do, I get it. Angels are dicks. But not Cas. You can trust him.”

 

Jo chews on her lip, eyes darting nervously between Dean and Cas. Slowly, she pushes off from the wall and meets the angel’s eyes. He raises his chin, his gaze steady and sombre.

 

“You… you really are an angel of Heaven? A creature of God’s grace?” she asks hesitantly. Cas inclines his head.

 

“I’m a poor example, but yes. And I’m sorry that your experience of my kind has been so negative. We’re supposed to protect humanity, but our purpose has been corrupted and Heaven is not the place it once was. I will not hurt you, though, I promise.”

 

Jo looks transfixed, staring at Cas as though seeing him anew. She drifts forward, eyes moving reverently over his invisible wings. Beside Cas, Dean shifts on his feet, his mouth tightening.

 

“Hang on,” Sam says loudly, startling Jo out of her trance-like state. “How did you get these… abilities? Seeing angel wings, demon faces, whatever else. And you said you can… hide yourself somehow?”

 

Jo opens her mouth but it’s Cas who answers. “She’s like you, Sam.”

 

Sam looks sharply at the angel. “What?”

 

Cas gives Sam a grave look. “I suspected it as soon as I saw her. I can still see the marks left on your soul by the demonic magic that claimed you as a child. This woman has the same marks on her soul, too.”

 

Sam blinks and then looks at Jo in disbelief. “She… she’s one of Azazel’s special children? Like me?”

 

“What does that mean?” Jo asks nervously, glancing between the three men. “Who is Azazel? What are special children?”

 

“Holy crap,” breathes Dean. “And that’s why Azazel couldn’t find her when he was rounding you all up… she can hide from demons. And angels too?”

 

“I imagine so,” agrees Cas, watching the increasingly agitated nun closely. He shakes his head and frowns in puzzlement. “But Sam lost his powers. Why has she kept hers?”

 

“What are you all talking about?” she demands, eyes flashing. Sam takes a deep breath and steps forward, ignoring Jo’s flinch backwards.

 

“We’re gonna have a sit down and a proper talk, and I’ll explain everything,” Sam promises gently. “But right now, I’m exhausted and we all need some sleep. So let’s talk later on. OK?”

 

Jo narrows her eyes at him. “Are you sure you trust me enough to let me out of this room? After all, you certainly didn’t before.”

 

Cas shuffles forward. “I will watch over you.”

 

Jo looks at him and her expression shifts from sarcastic to awestruck in moments. She swallows and gazes at him in something like gratitude. “You will?”

 

Cas nods solemnly and Jo visibly relaxes, smiling shyly at him. “Thank you. I’m sorry for my misunderstanding; I let fear cloud my faith. I believe now that you are truly a holy being.”

 

Cas looks mildly pleased by this, but beside him Dean looks less than impressed.

 

“What, you’re gonna have a sleepover?” he mutters snarkily.

 

“Dean,” Cas warns him. Dean falls silent, continuing to scowl. Jo looks between them in obvious confusion but is distracted by Sam yawning.

 

“OK, sleep time,” he announces. “Cas, Sister Jo’d better use your room since it’s all made up and you don’t actually need it. That OK?”

 

Cas nods and holds out his hand for Jo to take. She holds her breath and stares down at it before meeting Cas’s eyes, a smile growing on her face. She reaches out and takes his hand with joy in her eyes, holding his gaze. Murmuring a goodnight to Sam and a stiff-shouldered, glaring Dean, Cas leads an awestruck Jo out of the room.

 

“Great,” Dean mutters after a pause. Sam raises his eyebrows at his brother as Dean turns to him, still glowering. “Like, it’s weird, right? The whole seeing his wings thing. I mean, come on. And then they- I mean, they’re off in his bedroom, alone, I mean-”

 

“She’s a nun, Dean,” Sam reminds his brother, looking amused. Dean rolls his eyes.

 

“I know-”

 

“Which means you don’t have much of a chance anyway,dude.”

 

Dean pauses, shooting Sam a confused look. “What?”

 

“Oh, come on,” Sam laughs, picking up the small collection of food wrappers from the bedspread. “You think I don’t know when my own brother is jealous? You’re not subtle, Dean.”

 

Dean blushes, looking away. “I- well, I-”

 

“Jealous,” repeats Sam loudly; he smirks. “Hey, man, if it’s any consolation… in another life, you and her would have made a great couple.”

 

He leaves the room with a chuckle, leaving Dean torn between embarrassment that his jealousy is so obvious… and relief that Sam has no idea who Dean is actually jealous over.

 

*

 

“So… God did forsake us, then?” Jo breathes, eyes wide in the lamplight. She sits hugging her black-clad knees at the head of Castiel’s bed, hair loose and tumbled over one shoulder. It’s early morning and she’s only been awake for half an hour, but she’s wasted no time in questioning Castiel closely. “But… he came back? Recently?”

 

The angel in question sits with his hands clasped between his knees at the foot of the bed, half-twisted to face Jo. He shrugs.

 

“He came back briefly, to deal with the situation that had arisen. It was Dean who really took action then, though. And God left soon afterwards and cannot now be reached.”

 

Jo nods slowly, gaze drifting across the opposite wall. “The Lord works in mysterious ways. It’s a cliche, but it’s also the truth.”

 

She focuses on Castiel and her voice turns gentle. “He is still watching over us. His love is eternal.”

 

Castiel smiles sadly at her. “I wish I had your faith.”

 

Jo cocks her head, eyeing Castiel curiously. “You’re not what I ever would have expected an angel to be like, Cas.”

 

He shoots her a rueful glance. “No, I suppose not. I’ve spent a long time on Earth. My experiences have changed me.”

 

Jo leans forward in fascination. “Are other angels not like you, then?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

Jo frowns. “I thought creatures like you were monsters masquerading as holy and pure. Now I find out that there were no masks, and angels are simply violent and terrifying beings. But you seem different. Are you unique, or have I misjudged your kind?”

 

Castiel is silent for several moments, thinking. Finally, he answers, his voice low and halting. “I am… despised by most of my people. They see me as a traitor, and they’re not wrong. The truth is, I am too changed to be a true angel these days. But I’m still not human. I’m somewhere in between. So, yes, I am different. But I doubt I’m the first angel to feel this way, or the last.”

 

Jo nods slowly. “You miss the other angels in Heaven. Yet you’ve made your home here, on Earth.”

 

“Yes,” Castiel sighs, lowering his eyes, looking sad and weary. “Too much has happened, too many things tie me here. I have lived through so much, been made to feel things I could never have prepared for. It’s… difficult. But I can’t forget or deny who I’ve become. I’ve made friends and connections on Earth that mean everything to me, and I’ve even lived as a human for a time. I’ve killed and died, lost my grace and won it back. These things tend to alter one’s perception of one’s life and place in the universe.”

 

“Of course,” Jo murmurs compassionately, watching the angel. “I think you’re right. You can’t be the first angel to fall in love with a human and make a home on Earth. Others must have done so before, and found it similarly challenging. I’m sure you’re not alone in history.”

 

Castiel looks up, startled. “What did you say?”

 

“I said you can’t be the first angel to…” Jo trails off, her expression turning wary. “Oh, I- have I misread the situation? Surely you and Dean are…”

 

She halts awkwardly. Castiel swallows, eyes darting away and then back to her face. He speaks in a tense tone. “What makes you think that?”

 

She tucks her hair behind her ear, looking away. “He was so desperate to get you back. Then when I saw you together… and the way you talk about him, I just assumed…”

 

She pauses and looks up at Castiel, who is staring at her with parted lips and fearful eyes. Her expression gentles.

 

“I don’t believe it’s a sin,” she says quietly, leaning forward. “How can love be a sin? Of course, I’ve been taught quite differently and I imagine you know more about it than me-”

 

“It is a sin,” Castiel interrupts harshly, looking away, a ragged and tormented edge to his words. “Not because… it wouldn’t matter if I was human. But I’m not, and he is. I’m supposed to be his protector, his friend. And anyway, he doesn’t feel as I do.”

 

Jo frowns down at her knees. After several seconds of contemplation, she shakes her head decisively.

 

“I’m only a novice,” she says, tilting her head and catching Castiel’s eye once more. “I haven’t spent years living a holy life, I haven’t yet taken my vows. I don’t know what God thinks or how he passes judgement. But there are things that humans hate and fight over and blame each other for that they don’t have to… things like who can love who, or what kind of love people can feel. Even though my religion often preaches otherwise, I can’t find it in myself to believe in such rules. I don’t think they’re the work of God. I think they’re ways for people to control and persecute each other.”

 

Castiel is breathing deeply, staring unseeing down at his clasped hands in his lap. Hesitant, Jo moves to kneel on the bed beside him, her eyes sympathetic and kind. She touches his shoulder and he turns his head towards her, although his gaze stays lowered.

 

“I thought angels were so different from us,” Jo murmurs. “But you are more human and you feel more deeply than some people I’ve met, Cas. The way you speak of your kind… isn’t it possible that like us down on Earth, they hide behind God as a way to control each other? Do you really believe that the Lord created rules about who you, or anyone, can fall in love with? I mean… you’ve met him, after all.”

 

Castiel swallows and shakes his head slowly. “He doesn’t care about things like that. He doesn’t care about much at all. No, I know that, it’s not… it’s not him. It’s just hard to break away from thoughts and ideas that have been the norm for me for millennia. The other angels… they despise me enough just because they suspect how I feel, why I broke away in the first place. But I haven’t acted upon it, so some are still willing to extend the proverbial olive branch towards me. The idea of severing all ties with Heaven… it scares me. And Dean-”

 

He breaks off there, closing his eyes, mouth trembling. He exhales heavily. “None of it matters anyway. Dean sees me as a brother, and that’s an honour. It should be enough.”

 

Jo tilts her head and raises her hand to gently cup Castiel’s cheek, drawing his face towards her. He reluctantly opens his eyes and meets her knowing gaze. She strokes his skin with her thumb and her voice is soft but final when she speaks.

 

“But it’s not.”

 

Anguish flares in Castiel’s eyes but at that moment, there’s a loud knock at the door.

 

“Sister? Cover up, I’m comin’ in!”

 

Before Jo can do more than draw her hand back slightly from Castiel’s face, the door swings open to reveal Dean holding a steaming mug. He does a sharp double take at the sight before him: Jo, hair loose and gown rumpled, kneeling close to Castiel with her hand still hovering in the air between them. Dean’s expression shuts off after barely a moment of confused shock, but there’s a cold tension to the set of his mouth and shoulders.

 

“Am I interrupting something?” he asks gruffly. Jo flushes and Castiel jumps to his feet, straightening his coat awkwardly.

 

“Dean!” he exclaims, not quite meeting the man’s eyes. “No, no, we were just- just talking.”

 

Dean gives a quick, extremely false smile, his eyes hard and angry. “Right. Sure. Well, I made coffee, so when you’re done ‘talking’ come to the kitchen.”

 

With that, Dean turns on his heel and stalks off up the hallway.

 

*

 

“Dean.”

 

The man in question winces, pausing as he reaches out to grab the last dish from the drying rack. He pulls the dishcloth from over his shoulder instead, twisting it in his hands.

 

“Cas,” he says shortly, not turning to face the angel. “Thought you’d have gone with Sam and Jo.”

 

Cas sighs, moving further into the room. “They needed the space to talk about Azazel and their connection. I think they’re going to become close friends.”

 

Dean snorts, slapping the dishcloth down on the bench. He turns and leans back, arms and ankles crossed, jaw set, eyes cold. “Seems like you and ‘Sister Jo’ are already close friends. Real close.”

 

Cas frowns, walking slowly into the centre of the room. “What are you implying?”

 

“Oh, come on,” Dean snaps. “You know damn well what. You and her, all cosied up in her room. I mean, offering to watch over her? Real smooth.”

 

Cas looks utterly confused. “I’ve watched over you in your sleep numerous times. I was merely doing the same for her.”

 

“Yeah, I’ll bet,” sneers Dean. He scowls off to the side, shoulders hunched. “I saw you when I came in earlier. She was practically in your lap, man. I mean, a nun? Really? Does it not count because you’re oh so holy?”

 

“Dean-”

 

“And why are you suddenly some freakin’ Casanova, huh?” Dean demands, unfolding his arms to gesture furiously at the angel. “Is it because she can see you properly? Seeing your wings doesn’t mean jack, Cas. It’s just some random demon blood power. It doesn’t mean she knows you.”

 

Cas shakes his head helplessly. “I know that. I hid my wings from her after finding out that she could see them. It takes some effort, but I didn’t like them being on display.”

 

This seems to give Dean pause. He frowns at Cas in confusion. “What? Why?”

 

“Because they’re broken,” Cas says bitterly, his stance turning defensive, his gaze dropping to Dean’s feet. “They’re ugly and useless. It was bad enough when they turned black, but since Metatron’s spell alongside my grace being stolen, they’re damaged beyond repair. Other angels may heal in time, but I’ll always be a cripple.”

 

Dean stares wide-eyed at Cas, his anger seemingly forgotten. “They… turned black? What do you mean?”

 

Cas meets Dean’s eyes, suddenly looking very tired. He sighs and shrugs. “It happened when I pulled you from Hell. All angels who went on that mission were scarred by it. It was the price to be paid.”

 

Dean’s lips part but no sound comes out. Cas shakes his head, seeing the shock and guilt in the human’s expressive eyes.

 

“Don’t worry about it. I don’t regret it for a moment. But my wings are a source of pain and humiliation to me, so someone seeing them was an unpleasant surprise. If I’ve never shown you my wings, I certainly wouldn’t show a stranger.”

 

Dean cocks his head and swallows. His voice is hushed when he speaks. “You mean… you could show me? If you wanted?”

 

Cas regards Dean with wary suspicion. “If I wanted to, yes, I could manifest them on this plane. Angels used to do so regularly when appearing on Earth, to dazzle and intimidate humans. It’s forbidden now.”

 

Dean steps towards Cas, holding his gaze. “But you don’t care about their dumbass rules. Right?”

 

Cas stares intently at Dean. He inhales slowly, frowning. “I… well. I have cared, very much. I’ve hidden behind them, for too long now. But…”

 

He stops, drops his eyes, blinks at the floor and smiles slightly. “It’s possible that the time has come to break those last few rules. They aren’t God’s rules. They were made to… control and persecute. And who am I trying to fool? It’s too late for me. They’ll never really accept me now, no matter what I do…”

 

Cas is muttering to himself at this point; Dean watches him in growing confusion. “Uh, Cas?”

 

Cas stops, catches his breath, raises his eyes to meet the other man’s gaze. “Dean. Why were you so angry when you thought I was attempting to seduce Sister Jo?”

 

Dean snaps his mouth shut, cheeks colouring. “What? Oh. Well, I just… um…”

 

Cas cocks his head, steps towards Dean and with a blink of his eyes… he changes. A faint white glow emanates from his skin, his eyes shining a crystalline hue with the same ethereal light. The brightness intensifies subtly around his head. Wings appear behind him, sprouting hugely from his back, magnificent yet ragged and torn. They aren’t glowing and they’re a bottomless black in colour, glinting glossy where the light catches them yet seeming to turn to deepest, densest shadow where it does not.

 

Dean’s mouth drops open, shoulders sagging with disbelief. His eyes travel slowly over every inch of the angel before him, nothing but wonder and awe in his gaze. Finally, he meets Cas’s stare once more.

 

“Cas…” he croaks, his voice strangled and trembling. He shakes his head, mouthing soundlessly, before he manages to speak again. “They’re beautiful.”

 

Cas breaks into a shy grin at that, ducking his head. When he looks back up, the celestial glow has faded from his eyes. As Dean watches it fades from his skin too, until he is ordinary looking again except for the wings still fanning out behind him, twitching and rustling with his every movement. He closes the distance between himself and Dean, holding the human’s rapt gaze.

 

“Dean…” he begins lowly, then stops and sighs. “I hope I’m right.”

 

“About what?” breathes Dean. Cas smiles ruefully.

 

“About being wrong about this.”

 

Dean blinks in puzzlement, but a moment later Cas leans in and presses their mouths firmly together. It’s not a kiss of passion or lust; it’s a statement, a declaration. It’s tender, though, and lingering. When Cas pulls back, Dean hasn’t closed his eyes or breathed. He’s standing frozen in shock, lips slightly parted. Cas regards him nervously; the silence stretches on until Dean inhales sharply with a gulp, brow furrowing.

 

“Not that I’m complaining, but… what was that?” he asks hoarsely, wonderingly. Cas smiles in relief and when he replies, his voice is confident and sure, his wings ruffling proudly.

 

“Breaking the rules.”


End file.
